Monsters until you flip the light switch on

Andrew Gide - Very few monsters warrant the fear we have of them

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Happy Halloween!

What or who did you think was a monster until you flipped your light switch on?

When we think that a thing is dangerous, unknowable, or scary, and we try to not look at it, it stays scary. It’s why, as kids, we think the stuffed animal under our bed or the shirt in the closet is a monster. They will only stop being scary if you flip the light switch on. And only when they stop being scary do you find freedom.

Fear of vague unknown potentialities keeps us from chasing our dreams. Fear of who-knows-what a bully might do if you upset them keeps us from sticking up for ourselves and others. And the fear from seeing someone in your life as a monster to be afraid of, instead of a person to decide what you think about, keeps you stressed and nervous and sometimes even paralyzed.

Monsters are scary. When you see the world as one big monster, your dreams are scary. When you flip the light switch on and see that there’s really a lot of good happy safe stuff in life, and that everything is usually okay, the scariness fades away and you find freedom to do what you want to do.

Monsters are scary. On the other hand, flesh-and-blood people you decide that you don’t like or don’t want controlling your life are not scary. They stop being scary when you look at them in the light, look at them honestly, look at them plainly. Most people who have scared you are just people. You sure don’t have to like them, support them, or keep them around. But if they’re keeping you up at night or controlling your feelings, flip the light switch on and see them for who they really are. They are not monsters and so they don’t have any mysterious power over you.

I have found a lot of freedom in trading away the monsters I thought were waiting under my bed, for normal life stuff, and for finite, human, limited people who couldn’t really control me.

If you think you, too, might find some freedom in flipping your light switches on, go for it! All the stuff that scared you is normal to someone else. And all the people that you thought were monsters, who you thought you had to be scared of, whose power you thought would affect your whole life–they’re just people. You can choose to stop seeing them as scary monsters. You can be free from the fear.

You can find the courage to choose what you want.

Don’t wait for permission

Terrie Davoll Hudson - the things that excite you

Raise your hand if you often feel like you need permission to do something you’re inspired to do?

I don’t know if it’s just certain types of people. Maybe it’s a part of anxiety. Maybe it’s from growing up in a family where most things weren’t considered a wise use of time. Maybe it goes hand in hand with a codependent need to focus on everyone else’s happiness while neglecting your own.

I’m really not sure where it comes from. And I honestly don’t know how widely shared the experience is. Maybe it’s just a few of us. Or maybe there are lots and lots of us–waiting for permission to do what we’re inspired to do.

Maybe you want to try writing a story. Maybe you want to start running. Maybe you get a craving for chips and salsa. Maybe you want to talk to the stranger sitting next to you. Maybe you want to go for a road trip for no reason. Maybe you want to explore another career. Or maybe the beach is suddenly calling you.

The inspiration hits you. You know you want it. But there’s some voice telling you that of course that’s not for you! At least not today. That there are so many reasons you’re not ready to do that. It’s not like you’d be good at it anyway. And there are better things to do. It’s just not you–that’s for other people. Not you. . . .

Does that resonate with anyone else? Does anyone find that there’s a common theme in their day to day life of automatically assuming that you can’t, shouldn’t, or just won’t do a thing you feel inspired to do?

Big or little, I don’t think it makes a difference. The little ones make me scratch my head more, though. A job change is a big decision with lots of consequences. “I feel like inviting a friend to play catch” is NOT. Why is that hard sometimes?

If you ever feel that way, like you don’t have permission for all the things you’re inspired to do, like you’re never able or allowed to just go for things, like every new decision would be a wrong decision–if that’s you, I encourage you to see what happens if you just do things anyway.

What would happen if when your mind immediately went to every reason you shouldn’t do a thing (not worth it, not valuable, not worthy, not right now), you just told the feelings to go screw off and just did what you were inspired to do anyway?

Baby steps, even. Once a day, or once a weekend. . . . “It’s probably too chilly out.” I don’t care, I’m going for a walk! . . . “You’re not a reader!” I am today!

What would happen? You might find you don’t like it. It might cost you some time. Or you might find it exciting, therapeutic, enjoyable. You might discover a new passion in life. You might find a new hobby. You might make a new friend. You never know until you try. And if you try it, you just might like it. And you just might feel yourself coming alive.

(Side note: You might find something that you like that you’ll never be great at or that won’t “serve you” well. Great! That thing is what life is all about.)

Today’s never the right day if you’re waiting for life to give you permission. Today’s only the right day if you do the thing even though today was the “wrong” day.

Don’t wait for permission when you get inspired.

I think my life is much happier when I can let myself just do stuff.

And it always seems to turn out okay.

Happy adventuring!

~

pasta
Watched a cooking show on Netflix, accidentally couldn’t help making pasta.

What did you do today just because you wanted to?

Not Saying It

It feels like it will hurt LESS to NOT say what we want, than to SAY what we want and not get it.

But that’s just not true.

NOT saying it hurts WORST.

To never express it, to smother yourself, to give up without a chance. That is the loneliest and the saddest, in the end.

You are loved and your feelings are okay. You should at least say what you want. Even if it doesn’t work out right now, doesn’t match someone, doesn’t happen.

And maybe it WILL happen.

Don’t smother your voice. Being yourself WILL feel better, during the yes times and the no times.

Endless Options and the Hopelessness of Getting it Right

Schitt’s Creek . . . The Great British Baking Show . . . Peaky Blinders . . . El Camino . . . Surf’s Up . . . Ancient Aliens . . . Mary Poppins Returns . . .

You’re going to watch Netflix. Easy decision.

Which show? Not so easy.

How much time, on average, do you spend scrolling through Netflix options before settling on the show you’re actually going to watch? There are the “Popular on Netflix” titles like above. You also have “New This Week” to explore. “Critically Acclaimed Movies.” “Goofy Comedies.” Even “Binge-worthy Supernatural TV Horror.”

In the end, of course, the endless options become so overwhelming that you scroll back up to the “Continue Watching for Peter” section and click on “The Office.”

Life constantly presents choices for us to make–tons of them. Too many of them. And for each choice, there are a thousand options. More.

The endless options presented frequently leave us experiencing a strange phenomenon, termed “Overchoice” by the writer Alvin Toffler: We become overwhelmed. Maybe paralyzed. Certainly stressed. Disappointed or dissatisfied. What if we’re making the wrong choice? What are the risks in that other choice? What might happen if I pick that one? What might happen if I don’t?

Life hands us some pretty insignificant dilemmas: What should I wear today?

But life also hands us some pretty consequential dilemmas, too: Who should I date? What should I study?

And if you’re in business or in management, it seems like every day throws you a hundred of those consequential decisions, each with its own set up endless options: Who should lead this project? Which design to pick? Which candidates should be hired? How should this process be ordered? How should the surplus be used?

Trying to figure out which choice to make is a great idea. This blog post is not about how to do that.

This blog post is about when you’re ready to bang your head against the wall because there are too many “right” choices and too many “wrong” choices. When you’re at your wits’ end, because if you choose A, then B will happen, but if you choose B, then C will happen, and if you choose A and B, then OMG what if XYZ happens?! You can think of a hundred reasons for each option and a hundred reasons against each option, and you’ve already exhausted a hundred options.

Then what?

Well it’s a consequential matter, so you’d better figure out the best option. Right?

Wrong.

I think one of the most valuable lessons I’ve learned about decision making–particularly when it comes to management and business, but I think in other areas of life as well–is this:

Choosing the “right” option isn’t THAT important.

Ew, that sentence doesn’t feel right.

Sure, in some situations, you’ll have several options and after a little research be pretty confident about which option will lead to the best results. And when you can figure that out, great!

But really, in lots and lots of situations, you’ll have an endless number of options, and “getting it right” is absolutely hopeless. Or at least, so unlikely and so messy that it’s probably healthier in the long run to just go with a GOOD choice (instead of THE RIGHT choice) and then focus all your energy on executing that choice like a pro.

When you spend hours and hours, days and days, on one decision, you might find yourself no closer to figuring it out. No more confident. Worse, you might have finally settled on the exact right option only to have a sudden new thought knock your decision right off balance again. Back to the drawing board.

You can put so much unrealistic pressure on yourself, responsibility to somehow determine each potential outcome, to know each risk inside and out. You can lose sleep over whether you’re making the right or wrong choice, because you just can’t be quite sure.

And goodness knows, no matter how right your choice, it will turn out to be wrong. Something bad WILL happen because of the option you picked, no matter what. If you pick A, you’ll realize that it cost you B. And if you pick B, you’ll realize that it cost you A.

So maybe there isn’t one “right” option. And even if there is, maybe you have no way of discovering it. Maybe it makes better sense to flip through fifty options, pick your ten favorites to analyze, and flip a coin over the two that “feel” the most right after a while.

Honestly, you’re not going to be successful–at business, at management, at life–because you somehow put your finger on the absolutely right choice. You’re going to be successful because you kicked butt when you executed on the choice that was made. You’re going to be successful because when an option was finally chosen, you embraced it, you didn’t look back, you made the best of its weaknesses, and you pushed full steam ahead to explore and capitalize on its strengths. You didn’t lose too much sleep. You didn’t drive yourself nuts. You’re not wallowing in guilt for what your decision might have cost. You’re not wasting loads of time and energy examining endless options. You’re not giving up completely and ignoring the decision to be made. You’re just leading and executing like a bad-ass.

So when you find yourself unsure of what to pick, afraid you’ll make the wrong choice, sometimes it’s all going to go better if you just go for it!

After all, no matter which option you pick, right before you commit, you’re definitely going to think, “Oh man, that wasn’t the right decision, was it?”

So stop aiming at perfection. Just aim at something great and then move past the deciding stage to the stage where actual Stuff happens.

I think I’ve noticed these two things about great leaders:

First, they know that the one option THEY select out of the endless options isn’t really the most important thing. They don’t get paralyzed wondering and second-guessing. They do a little analyzing and then make their best educated guess. Then they focus fully and powerfully on executing it.

Second, they often really don’t care which one option their FOLLOWERS select out of the endless options. They won’t hold your hand, they won’t give you the answer, they won’t tell you which decision they think you should make. They say, “I know you’ll make a good decision” and then they support you and have your back.

Because there will always be endless options and “getting it right” can be hopeless.

So “getting it right” must not always be the part that matters.

All that being said, I know there are some decisions so consequential that maybe all the soul-searching and analyzing are worth it. I just think we way overestimate how many of those decisions we see in a day. Or in a lifetime.

Good luck flipping coins!

And no, I haven’t really applied this lesson very well in my personal life. I still browse Netflix for an inordinate amount of time, and my show-picking hasn’t really improved. Although, maybe watching The Office for the 20th time really was the best choice all along.

Robert K Greenleaf - overchoice

To a little kid, little hurts are big and real

I want to speak up for a group of people that can’t really speak up for themselves. A group of little people. People who don’t get taken too seriously when they speak up. Because they’re “just” little kids.

(Hey you, if you saw this title and clicked on this post because you were excited to shame someone you know, to make them feel bad for not having “parenting” figured out, or excited to attack anyone, really, please just skip to the P. S. at the very bottom.)

I’ve looked for the words for this for a long time, sat on a draft for over a year, because I actually think this subject matters a lot, but I probably don’t know enough about it and definitely won’t do it justice. But I guess it matters enough to say it anyway–at least this morning it does.

Bradford was a sensitive little guy, maybe 6 years old. He had the cutest little dimples and the sweetest laugh. I remember Bradford’s face when someone poured water over his head one time. It didn’t seem like a big deal to the adult who poured water over his head, but it was a big deal to Bradford, and he cried. A lot. I don’t think that makes what the adult did bad. But I think when Bradford starts crying, that matters. I think when Bradford starts crying, it’s time to hear Bradford’s feelings, to care, to see him as a human with valid experiences and needs.

The problem is I think we very frequently discount all those experiences and needs, because Bradford is “just a kid.” So we laugh awkwardly about it when Bradford is crying–silly Bradford. He’s just not emotionally tough yet. He’s overreacting. He’ll get over it. It was pretty funny.

Grace is the youngest in her family, still young enough that her little big feelings aren’t too consequential for the grown ups in her life. So when Grace gets to orders onion rings, and saves them for last, and then begs her dad not to eat her onion rings, and then cries when he eats them anyway–this is all pretty insignificant. Grace, after all, is just a kid. She will get over it. Onion rings aren’t something to cry over.

There’s a little girl I know who has such a big heart and big smile, and those come along with big feelings. She is cute as can be, and like any toddler, she is learning how life works. A while ago I was watching and listening to her do and say something just outrageously adorable. Like, she doesn’t even know. And it made the grown ups around her proud. Made us laugh a beaming-affectionate type of laugh. But the little girl saw us laughing, and she suddenly got quiet. She looked very worried. It wasn’t fun anymore. Why were we laughing at her?

Trying to predict the feelings and reactions of a little kid is about as difficult as it is to predict the feelings and reactions of “grown ups” like the ones you work with. (Let’s be honest.) So I don’t fault anyone who unintentionally makes a little kid feel sad, scared, embarrassed, or picked on. It’s going to happen.

I do, though, care a lot about what happens when the little kid starts feeling sad, scared, embarrassed, or picked on. When their smile fades and their eyes start filling up.

When Bradford is an adult, I don’t think he’ll care as much about water getting dumped on his head. When Grace is an adult, she’d probably just buy herself her own onion rings and not let people steal them. And when that little girl watches videos someday of her adorable two-year-old self, I bet she’ll smile and laugh, too, self-consciousness gone.

But the fact that they’ll grow up not to care as much about that little thing doesn’t make their feelings now unimportant.

Really, what is the difference between a child feeling hurt and an adult feeling hurt? Why do we have to be considerate of the feelings of an adult, but not of a kid? Why do we have to be kind and respectful to an adult, but not really a kid? Time? Age? Do those change the value of the hurting person? No, I think when we think really honestly and carefully about this, the really big difference is that the little people can’t stick up for themselves. It’s okay for adults to tease and laugh at little kids for being weak and vulnerable. It’s okay for adults to be thoughtless or unkind to little kids. It’s okay because the kids will grow up and . . . not have scars? No, it’s okay because the adults are in charge.

Lots of times, adults absolutely care when their little one starts crying–here’s to you, that can be an exhausting job! But sometimes, it’s just that adults don’t care when something ends up hurting their kiddos. For some parents, it never ever matters what their kid “wants.” And I think more frequently than we’d like to admit, adults actually get to be downright mean and inconsiderate to their little kids.

I want to say this, but I want to say it carefully: Little kids learn big lessons about the world from their little big feelings. When their tears are funny to you, they grow up knowing that. Even worse, when their tears just have no significance to you, they grow up knowing that.

I want to say that carefully, because “they’ll have scars when they grow up” is only part of the reason little kids’ feelings matter. Someone’s future feelings shouldn’t really be a necessary motivator for valuing their now-feelings. People just matter. People’s hearts matter. Feelings matter. Whether those now-feelings are felt in 6-foot-2-inches of body or “just” 3-foot-9.

I know 3-foot-9 feelings can be unpredictable or irrational. But that’s really no excuse to write them off, because 6-foot-2 feelings are also unpredictable and irrational. (Have you met grown-ups?)

And I know sometimes, no matter how angry or sad or hungry or not-hungry or definitely-not-wanting-to-wear-pants your little kid is in the moment, you have to get them in their car seat, they have to swallow some nutrients, and they cannot watch TV all day. So they’ll cry, and even if you love them and value their feelings, you still have to take good care of them, and you still have to keep your sanity. More power to you, moms and dads, because I can’t even imagine . . .

But when I grow up, I’ll remember if you at least cared to not let my tiny heart be broken unnecessarily. I’ll remember if you ever accepted or affirmed my emotions. I’ll remember if you thought they were funny or annoying instead of real. I’ll remember if my feelings never matter.

And honestly, that should matter before I grow up, too.

So remember to put yourself in your kid’s place, sometimes. To imagine what their feeling. To listen to what they’re feeling.

I’m no expert. I’m not a developmental psychologist. So maybe I’m wrong.

But I was “just a kid” once.

“Children’s emotions are as real as yours. Just because they might get sad over the colour of their cup, does not make their feelings any less real.” – Rebekah Lipp

P. S. One reason this post took so long for me to write is that I cannot imagine the challenge, the responsibility, and the pain of trying to be a “good parent.” We all screw up at just about everything sometimes, and you’re no more a monster for sometimes getting it wrong with a kid than you are for sometimes getting it wrong with the grown-ups in your life. This isn’t a you-should-feel-bad post, and please don’t use it that way, against yourself or against others. It’s just a please-see-your-kid reminder. I just wish you and your kiddo the best!

Dr Seuss - a person's a person no matter how small